


The Real Librarians of Lawrence Public Library

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Library, Castiel in Glasses, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ficlet Collection, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Librarian Castiel, Librarian Dean, Libraries, M/M, Matchmaker Charlie, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Gilda, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Non-Explicit Sex, One Shot Collection, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8678779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The life of a librarian is more than what meets the eye. Everyone expects the annoying patrons and overdue books, low pay and awkward hours, but what happens when you go beyond the barriers of the circulation desk? What really lies behind the pasted on grins and ink stained fingers of Lawrence Public Library's employees? Dean is about to find out. (Or, the one where Dean gets a job at the library and is tossed headfirst into a world filled with redheaded matchmakers, surly patrons, insufferable bosses, and one quirky, blue-eyed children's librarian who may be the one he's been looking for.)[This fic is on hiatus until further notice]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A ton of people may not know this, but a lot of craziness happens in a library. I'm talking girls in hammocks, boys doing pull-ups from the rafters, angry soccer moms complaining about our policies, and anonymous love notes left in books (and that is just what I've experienced in real life!) The library is a rich place filled with fanfic opportunities, and yet not often enough do I see this being used. 
> 
> That is why I'm writing this ficlet collection. 
> 
> The idea originally came after reading a few fics that were written in one universe, but each chapter was almost like a unique fic and did not necessarily connect to the chapter before it. I loved the format so much that I decided that I wanted to try it out myself, plus it is the perfect palette cleanser when I need to get away from my Tumblr DCBB fic I'm working on. 
> 
> ~~As for posting, there is no set schedule. I am going to update this in between writing my Tumblr DCBB, and then when that is completed I will focus on this full time.~~ **I think I can work it out so this will update every Friday!** If you’re worried about getting into a WIP fic, just know that each chapter could stand on its own, and only a few points will be weaved throughout. That being said, I have an idea for the ending, and I have full plans to finish this fic (assuming I am able!) I really wish that everyone will stick around for the whole ride. 
> 
> I guess that is it! Enjoy, and remember, feedback is like gold to authors!

If you asked Dean ten years ago what his life would look like at age thirty, he would’ve rattled off some half assed answer about charming ladies at Angelz after a long shift at Winchester Automotive, reeking of grease and oil and dust. He would’ve talked about chasing tail and living life in the fast lane, only doing one night stands because relationships are for people who aren’t high school dropouts with six bucks to their name. He would’ve guessed that he’d be living on Sam’s couch because that’s what nobodies from Lawrence, Kansas do when they don’t make anything of themselves. 

He never would’ve guessed he’d end up _here._

It’s all Sam’s fault, really. Guy knows how weepy Dean gets when he’s drunk, so of course he exploited that on his twenty-fifth birthday when they went out for their usual round of beers at the Roadhouse. All it took was Sam pushing him into celebratory shots and bam! Next thing Dean knew he was ranting about how he hated working for their Dad and wanted to get a proper college education, you know, make something of himself.

Things went hazy around the edges after that- Sam said there was karaoke and Jo taped the entire thing for later blackmail- but he woke up the next morning with a nasty hangover and a GED practice test sitting on his nightstand, ready to be taken. 

Fast forward five years and now Dean’s a man with a college degree, is even thinking of going all out and getting his Master’s too. He rents a rundown bungalow on the outskirts of Lawrence that he plans to buy out one day, and instead of wasting away at the auto shop like his alcoholic father, he’s a librarian who reads books for fun and only drinks on the weekends. 

It’s nothing like what he imagined his life would be. _It’s better._

He thinks of that now as he wanders into Lawrence Public Library, taking in the familiar edifice as his eyes glance up and down, back and forth. He walks through the glass doors and is immediately greeted with the familiar twang of cleaning supplies and musty pages filling his nose, his personal ‘welcome back’ greeting from the building. His boots squeak against the newly washed ivory tile, and he picks up the ‘WET FLOOR’ sign that had fallen over as he passes it by. The racks of overly used DVDs litter the lobby, and he grins at a little girl whose eyes light up when she finds their copy of _The Little Mermaid_ on a shelf she can reach _._ And when he wades into the infamous ocean of mismatched tables and chairs- an homage of randomly donated furniture Marv insists they use instead of buying new, matching ones- he can’t help but smile widely. Yeah, the Library is old and definitely isn’t up to par on many things, but it has character. What other library has fold out chairs and park benches at the same table? Not one Dean can name, that’s for certain. 

Despite all the quirkiness of the library itself though, Dean’s favorite part is the patrons who inhabit it. 

There’s Alfie, a local college student majoring in Environmental Science who spends his weekends studying non-stop. He is sitting at one of the oak tables near the back of the library when Dean meanders by, head resting on his arms while he dozes off in the mid-afternoon sun. Ruby is a woman who always checks out books on witchcraft, and today she is browsing the world religions section. She glares at him when he waves. Jody, a foster mom to two teenage girls who love to come in and tease Dean weekly, is checking her email on one of the ancient PCs they have available for public use, and of course there is Pamela, the owner of an awesome coffee shop across the street, lounging out in their leisure reading nook.

Overall it looks like it’s a normal day at the library, that is, until he gets distracted by his phone ringing in his pocket and plows head first into the one person he wishes to never embarrass himself in front of. 

“Ow- oh. Hello, Dean.” 

Dean glances up with red in his cheeks and immediately wishes the ground would gulp him whole in that moment. His favorite coworker, Cas, is quirking his lips up in a little smile that reveals his pearly white teeth beneath them, looking just as embarrassed as Dean is. His hair is even more tousled than usual today, curling around the back of his ear and flipping up a little in the front, and it all compliments the pair of wide, black framed glasses that are constantly resting on the bridge of his nose. 

“Uh, sorry about that,” Dean apologizes in a burst of words, hating how fast they come out of his mouth. 

Luckily, Cas has worked with him long enough now to catch his quick talk and nods in understanding. “It’s okay. It was probably my fault, anyway. There’s a children’s event in five minutes and I’m a bit frantic, if you couldn’t tell.” 

Dean rubs the back of his neck and only then notices the piles of Dr. Seuss books perched in Cas’s arms. _Green Eggs and Ham_ is poking out from the bottom and Dean nudges it back into place with his finger before shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh yeah, forgot about that. Mrs. Tran’s first graders, right?” 

“Correct,” Cas says with a smile on his face. His eyes flick to the floor and up again in quick succession. “We’re learning about rhymes today and I’m late for a very important date.”

Dean laughs under his breath and lets his lips curl into a dopy, lopsided grin. “Well then, better run along there, Peter Rabbit. Those kids ain’t gonna teach themselves.” 

Cas quirks his head in a birdlike fashion and responds, “You mean White Rabbit?” 

“No...I mean Peter Rabbit. Y’know, cute little guy with ears? Hops around the way?” 

“Yes, I know who Peter Rabbit is, but that line is White Rabbit’s from ‘Alice in Wonderland’. Trust me, Dean.”

“Nah, you’re wrong about this one.” Dean holds up one finger as he digs around in his pants pocket for his phone. When he extracts the device, he cusses under his breath when he finds that the wifi is down again, loud enough for a mother walking by to clamp her hands over a little boy’s ears. 

Cas laughs lowly under his breath and the sound is enough for bring a fluttering to Dean’s chest. 

“I’m sorry you can’t prove your point, but I really need to get going.” Cas readjusts the pile in his hands and Dean flushes when a little peak of skin appears, revealing the waistband of Cas’s underwear. “As you said, the children cannot teach themselves and I am not in the mood to deal with an angry Mrs. Tran.” 

Dean waves at Cas and says, "Fine, fine. I'll prove you wrong at lunch today. Now get goin'. If you're late she'll know it's 'cause you were talking to me." 

Cas nods once in Dean's direction. "I'll see you later, Dean." After one parting wink he's gone, descending the stairs to the basement while whistling an unfamiliar tune under his breath. 

When he’s out of sight, Dean falls back against the nearest wall and runs the palm of his hand over his face. How did he get so infatuated with Castiel Novak, of all people? On paper, they are complete opposites. Dean just finished college a year ago while Cas graduated at age eighteen. Dean likes classic rock and going to car shows on his days off, while Cas loves that top forty crap they play on the radio and spends his weekends at the Lawrence Art Museum. Dean’s got the numbers of at least fifteen past lovers in his phone while Cas says that he’s only been in one relationship, ever. They couldn’t be more different, and yet Dean’s pretty sure that he’s been falling for Cas ever since day one at Lawrence Public Library. 

Maybe it’s the incredibly blue eyes or the thick build of his arms that originally had Dean drooling, but now he knows his crush goes way deeper than surface attraction. He likes Cas because he’s got a unique sense of humor to him, and more often than not Dean’s the only one who understands his jokes. He likes Cas because he’s a damn good children’s librarian, connecting with each kid who comes up to his desk and shyly asks where the Harry Potter books are located. He likes Cas because even though he’s kind and generous, he’s a badass underneath all that tweed and wool. Hell, he’ll never forget the time Cas tackled a guy who was trying to smash and grab all their DVDs in one go. 

And yet, he’s not dumb. He’s completely aware of Missouri’s distaste for her workers ‘canoodling,’ as she would put it, and as much as he likes Cas, he can’t risk losing his job. It’s tough enough trying to make ends meet while paying off student loans, and he _enjoys_ library work. Where else could he get paid for reading Vonnegut? 

So instead of asking Cas out like he’s wanted to for months now, he’s gonna pine like a freakin’ teenage girl and imagine what his life would be like if they were ever together. And it’ll be fine. At least, that’s what he hopes. 

With a sigh, Dean pushes away from the wall and makes his way towards the circulation desk. Charlie’s coat is flung over the back of a rolling chair and he smiles down at the Star Trek buttons attached to it before tossing off his leather jacket, relishing in the feeling of cool air wafting over his too warm skin. He notices a stack of unsorted books, so he wanders over and falls into the easy rhythm of deciphering the Dewey Decimal system, eyes flying over spines rapidly. He’s about halfway through the stack when he feels a vibration against his leg. 

After looking around to be sure Marv or Missouri aren’t lingering, Dean takes a chance and pulls out his phone once again. What he finds is a text from Cas, linking him to a gif of White Rabbit saying ‘I’m late for a very important date.’ Below is a winky face emoji followed by a simple message underneath.

 _CAS:_ Never mess with a children’s librarian. 

Dean grins like a madman down at his phone and doesn’t even mind the redness that seeps into his cheeks when he puts it away. 

Yep, he’s definitely crushing on Castiel Novak, and Dean’s one-hundred percent, no doubt about it _screwed._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _The one where we meet the coworkers!_  
> 

It’s a rarity that every employee of Lawrence Public Library is in one place at the same time, and frankly? Dean likes it that way. Sure, he enjoys most of his coworkers, would even call some of them friends. Charlie’s like a sister to him at this point and Benny’s the older brother he never had, plus he’s played video games with Aaron and Chuck on several occasions. Cassie is charming and can wax poetic about almost anything, and while Missouri is a bit of a hardass, she’s a damn good Circulation Manager and keeps them all in line. Gabriel’s turned out not to be as big an idiot as he originally thought (though he does still drive Dean up a wall weekly), and of course there’s Cas, who...well, it goes without saying how he feels about Cas. 

But there are a few people that he’d rather stay the hell away from at all costs due to them being freaking _dickbags_. 

Crowley’s the first one that comes to mind. He runs all the finances and thinks that makes him like, library king or something. He walks around pretending he owns the place, nose in the air and snarky comments at the ready. Dean’s got a juicy conspiracy theory brewing that he’s fishing money from their circulation budget to fund his suit fetish. 

Meg is nowhere near as bad as Crowley, but she ain’t exactly a bucket of puppies and he’ll never understand why she was hired as a children's librarian assistant. Rumor has it that she made a kid cry one time or some shit like that. But her biggest offense will always be the time she called his Baby ‘just a car’ and kicked her wheel to boot. Ever since then Dean’s held a certain distaste for Meg Masters, even though Cas has tried to convince Dean that she’s “not that bad” every time they get into a snark battle. 

But perhaps the worst of them all is Marv. Despite being his boss and the one who signs his paychecks at the end of the day, Dean can’t stand that guy. Really, who refuses a library card to a kid because he didn’t ask nicely enough, or doesn’t let the local shelter ring bells outside their building? Dickbags, that’s who. And if that isn’t enough of a reason to hate him, he’s also spineless and practically lets Crowley run the show around here, never turning him down lest his name gets dragged through the proverbial mud. 

Dean’s incredibly grateful that he doesn’t have to see any of them that often, he’d probably be throwing punches every day if he did, but it only makes their weekly staff meetings a pain in his ass. 

“Okay everyone, calm down! Order, order!” Marv heckles out like some sort of TV court room judge, waving his hands in the air idiotically. 

Dean slides into one of the mismatched fold out chairs they have lined around the outskirts of the cramped break room and crosses his arms over his stomach. Missouri is taking attendance as people take their places while Crowley lounges against one of the ancient plastic tables they have available, looking as bored as ever. He catches a glimpse of Aaron and Chuck taking seats as far away from Crowley as possible while Meg enters the room with her usual look of distaste on her face, Cas following close behind. They lock eyes once Cas sits down and Dean has to hide the blush that rises to his already pink cheeks when Cas timidly waves. 

Damn, what’s happening to him? If he’s not careful, he’s gonna lose his street cred for being a badass. 

“Ten bucks.”

Dean glances over at the flash of red that slides into the chair next to him and curls his lip into a half grin. “Ten bucks for what?” he questions. 

Charlie smoothes out the wrinkles in her TARDIS dress and leans back in her chair before replying. “Ten bucks Marv and Gabriel get into a fight over implementing rules about porn at work.” 

He snorts inelegantly, recoiling at Missouri’s leveling stare from across the room. “Please. I’m sure Marv’s given up on curbing Gabriel’s lunch break habits after the last time.” 

Charlie shivers next to him at the memory. “I will never be able to sit on that couch again.” 

He’s about to fire back about the hypocrisy of that statement, because on more than one occasion he’s found Charlie making out with her girlfriend, Gilda, there, but he doesn’t get the chance before the room falls into an uncanny quiet as Marv plops himself down onto the ornate armchair that’s perched at the front of the room, elbows rested on his knees. 

“Are we ready to begin?” he asks, but all he’s met with is a series of nonchalant moans. That doesn’t discourage him at all from clapping his hands together and moving on as if he wasn’t facing an entire staff that despised him though. “Fantastic! Now that we’re all situated, let’s jump right into today’s agenda. First order of business is a fun one. I am proposing that we all spend a weekend together at Lake Lakuta for staff bonding!”

Groans erupt from the room and Dean’s positive that his is the loudest of them all. No way is he gonna go on some hippie, ridiculous soccer mom retreat with Marv as their guide. Dean’s still not over being forced into a bonding exercise on his first day here; Gabriel dropped him on the floor because he saw a cute girl walk by and he has the scar to prove it. A whole weekend with his coworkers in the woods would be nothing short of disaster, and he immediately raises his hand to catch Marv’s attention. 

“Why do we need to go into the freaking woods, fall all over one another and sing kumbaya?” he questions, lips pushed down into an irritated grimace. “No way you’re forcin’ me into that.” 

Marv levels a lengthy glare at him, fingers tapping impatiently against his leg. “It’s _required_ ,” he says. Dean can practically hear the air quotes. “And it’ll be fun!”

Another round of groans and Dean leans back in his chair, palms out as if in prayer. “Does that sound like a bunch of people who are gonna have fun?” 

“Oh c’mon,” Marv whines. “They’ll be campfire songs and sleeping in tents-”

“Mosquitoes eatin’ me alive...bears attackin’ our campsite,” Benny mutters as he slides into a seat next to Dean. 

“I don’t think you get a say when you’re five minutes late, Mr. Lafitte,” Marv hisses back.

“No way I’m camping unless there’s booze,” Cassie pipes up from across the room. 

“Ditto on that one,” Missouri chimes in. 

“Can we bring beer to a campsite? Because that would definitely change my feelings about this trip,” Chuck calls out. 

“Ooh, and you know what we need? Weed brownies!” Aaron suggests, and that gets everyone talking all at once. 

“I’ve got all five Casa Erotica DVDs,” Gabriel says with a cheesy grin on his lips. 

“A little Moonshine ain’t hurt anyone,” Benny replies. 

“What about a...uh...sex tent!” Charlie yells. 

“Skinny dipping in the lake!” Meg caws. 

Voices trip and fall over each other with every new ridiculous request until the room is filled with a buzzing nonsense and Marv’s face is a pearly red. Dean’s pretty positive it’s his request for a Magic Mike viewing that makes his boss cry out, “Enough! You’re all a bunch of _deplorables!_ Meeting adjourned, trip cancelled...argh!” 

Marv tosses up his hands and shoves back from the seat in a huff. He practically runs out the room, feet tripping on the bumpy, carpeted floor as he goes, and after he’s out the door Crowley follows on his heels with a quick shrug, not saying a word. 

“Now _that’s_ how you piss off the boss,” Gabriel crows after a few quick moments of vacuum quiet, fingers laced together in front of him. “Easy as pie.” 

Others laugh under their breath and mutter in agreement before breaking out into various conversations with one another. Voices filter through the room while everyone gathers their things and makes their way back to their stations. He’s about to do the same, Circ desk doesn’t run itself after all and who knows when Marv’ll be back, but a new presence takes the seat where Benny was sitting and suddenly work is the last thing on his mind. 

“Gabriel’s going to give Marv a complex if he doesn’t ease up,” Cas replies, eyes fixed on the wall ahead of him. 

“Thought you hated Marv as much as we do,” Dean mutters back, very aware that Charlie’s next to him, trying to be discreet about her eavesdropping. 

Cas shrugs and grins a little, low laughters easing its way past his lips. “I suppose so, but that still doesn’t make it right.” 

“You’re too nice for your own good, you know that?” Dean says. 

Cas flicks his gaze to the ground and leans back in his chair. “I appreciate your faith in me, Dean, but I’m not the saint you take me for.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Yes,” Cas says back. He reaches over and grabs two water bottles off what they’ve come to know as the “bribe” table, which is filled with various cookies, cakes, scones, and every breakfast bar known to man. Cas offers one bottle to Dean and he takes it, twisting off the top. 

“How?” Dean asks. Cas could pass as an angel in his opinion, and that’s not just because he’s got a huge, probably inappropriate crush. He is the guy who reads to old people in nursing homes and helps turtles cross the street. Dean once saw him holding a baby in the children’s department while the mother picked out a book and then _sang her a lullaby._ There’s nothing Cas could possibly do that would strip him of sainthood. 

“Because I thought about suggesting we all sleep naked and start an orgy.” 

Water spews out of Dean’s lips and he breaks out into loud coughing. Charlie raises an eyebrow next to him and Cas immediately bangs him on the back, trying to expel the water that ran down the wrong pipe. His eyes are open wide, but it’s not from the coughing fit. Cas is usually one who turns beet red when people even mention anything with innuendo. He’s watched Cas flub and come up speechless when Gabriel teases him more times than he can count. Where did _that_ come from?

“Dean? Are you okay?” Cas asks as he reaches for a napkin on the table. 

“Yeah, I’m peachy,” he snarks, taking the napkin with more force than necessary. 

Cas’s hands are lingering on his back, rubbing it in up and down motions to calm him down. Which is y’know, totally fine and not the reason he can’t seem to compose himself. 

“Clarence! Leave your boyfriend alone and come sign off on this shipment,” Meg hollers from across the room, and only then does Cas remove his hands from Dean’s body. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again. 

“Yeah Cas, I’m fine. Go talk to birds or whatever it is you do,” he gets out through random fits of coughing. 

Cas grins weakly before nodding at Dean, trekking across the break room, and following Meg out the door. 

Charlie immediately turns towards him once Cas is out of sight and smacks him on the arm. 

“Ow! What the hell-”

“You’ve got a cruuuuush,” she teases in a low voice. 

“I do _not_ -”

“You do! It’s completely obvious and I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before.” Charlie waggles her eyebrows and crosses her legs, elbows coming down to plop against them. “C’mon, Dean. Not telling me is violation of the BFF code that we agreed upon. No secrets, remember?”

...Damn the BFF Code. 

“Okay, you know what?" Dean mutters in a low voice, "Fine. Maybe I’ve got a little crush on Cas-”

“Psh, little my ass,” Charlie interrupts with a grin. 

“-but there’s nothing I can do about it,” Dean finishes, completely ignoring Charlie’s comment. His eyes remain trained on the floor. “You know Missouri’s rules. If she found out I was makin’ moves on her best children’s librarian I’d be out of here faster than Gabriel when that tarantula was on the loose.” 

“We never did find Frodo,” Charlie muses with pursed lips before knocking Dean on the arm again with her hand. “But are you gonna pass up your chance with Cas over a stupid rule? I thought you were braver than that, Dean.” 

He rubs his fingers along the back of his neck and bites his lip. Deep down, he is completely, one hundred percent in agreement with Charlie. He’s Dean freaking Winchester, the town charmer who goes after the people he likes, rules be damned. Why is this any different? 

It’s not, he admits, but the person he’s pining after sure is. 

Look, Dean’s not a monk. He’s had his fair share of one night stands with women over the years, and more recently, with men too. He likes sex. No, scratch that. He _loves_ it. Being filled with another person, leaving marks on their body, smelling the salt of their skin, there’s nothing better. But they always leave. A quick ‘that was fun, maybe another time’ before never seeing said lover again is all he knows, all he’s ever allowed himself to have before. And while that’s fine with people he picks up at bars, Cas isn’t some one night stand. He’s _Cas_. Amazing, quirky, adorable Cas who listens to Dean rant about the Impala without blinking an eye. Cas, who could burn down a house by trying to boil water but still finds the best canned soup when Dean comes into work sick. Cas, who always asks how he’s doing even when nobody else will. 

He can’t take the chance that he’s reading all the signs wrong. He can’t take the chance that he’s right and Cas is just too damn good for him. He can’t. 

“I...ah...can’t lose this job,” Dean says instead, bringing his gaze up to meet Charlie’s. “You know how tight finances are already.” 

Charlie nods in understanding but her eyes are narrowed, clearly seeing right through his bullshit excuse. “Fine,” she says after a moment of quiet between them, pushing up from her chair. “But this isn’t over.” 

“Ugh, why can’t you let it go?” Dean asks as they exit behind Cassie and Chuck. 

“Because I ship you guys,” she says nonchalantly, flipping her hair over her shoulder and winking. 

“You _ship_ us? What the hell does that mean?” 

Charlie just winks again as she grabs her laptop from behind the Reference desk. “Google it, Dean. I’ve got a research appointment in five minutes and I haven’t even touched my computer today.”

“I’m not gonna Google that. Charlie? Charlie!” 

But she’s already gone, red hair disappearing behind a corner before she can hear his reply. 

With nothing else to do but distract himself from his bout of low self esteem, Dean wanders over to the paper filled Circ desk and looks around the area. Aaron is already there helping Mildred with finding a book about classical music, and Dean takes that as his cue to get going on the overflowing cart ready for shelving. After checking that everything is already in call number order, he puts in his earphones, fumbles around until a Van Halen tune spills into his ears, and gets to work, letting his fingers glide up and down the spines of each crooked, imperfect book as he goes. Before long, he’s completely transfixed, mind filled with lyrics and notes and titles instead of Charlie’s comment, and for the first time today he feels at peace. 

He’s five books away from finishing when he nearly jumps ten feet into the air. 

_No one knows what it’s like to be the bad man, to be the sad man, behind blue eyes._

Dean drops the book he’s holding and rips out his earbuds, but it’s too late. Suddenly his mind is filled with a familiar set of cerulean eyes and a boisterous laugh, a flash of pearly white teeth behind peachy pink lips. He’s remembering all of the reasons why he’ll never be good enough for the man in his vision, how much he wishes that he could be, and the next thing Dean knows his finds himself leaning back against the stacks and sliding to the ground, feeling incredibly shitty about, well, everything. 

How the hell did he end up here? Why can’t he get him out of his head? Why is Cas unlike all the others? 

Sighing, Dean runs the palm of his hand over his face and leans his forehead against his knees while the tinny tune rings out from the still connected earbuds. He doesn’t have the energy to turn it off, so he listens to the rest of the song and rolls his head back against the books, eyes closing as he lets images of his favorite librarian wash over him in a wave of what could but never will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first two chapters are a bit more about establishing than anything else, but now we get to have a bit of fun. Things got a little angsty at the end here, but I promise next chapter will be lighter!
> 
> **Note: > The idea is to update this every Friday, so check back for a new chapter then!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The one where Sam has a crush!_

It’s no secret that when it comes to Sam, Dean acts like an overzealous soccer mom. When they were kids and moved around a lot, Dean fought any punk ass tween who thought they could make fun of his brother. When Sam was eighteen and got a full ride to Stanford, Dean pinned the acceptance letter up on their motel room mini fridge and hugged him for a good five minutes. When Sam graduated from said university, Dean’s hollars were the loudest in the room. And when Sam moved back to Lawrence with tears in his eyes and grief on his shoulders, Dean held him as he cried and worked around the clock to make his brother’s transition back into small town life as easy as possible.

He knows it’s kinda ridiculous; Sam’s a grown ass man and can take care of himself, but that doesn’t stop Dean. Maybe it’s because growing up they were all the other had, and the part of him that wants to protect “little Sammy” from the world never faded with age. Maybe it’s because Dean was more of a parent to Sam than their own father at times, and now can’t wrap his head around the fact that his baby brother isn’t a baby anymore.

Or maybe it’s because without Dean, Sam would never be able to find a damn library book on his own.

“I just don’t get why everyone doesn’t use Library of Congress,” Sam complains for what feels like the thousandth time today, brushing a piece of hair out of his face. “It’s a much easier system to understand.”

“College ruined you, Sammy,” Dean comments as they thumb through the library stacks, fingers catching on classic gold leaf titles intermixed with bold, bright ones. He pulls out a textbook with large lettering on the front before reshelving it when Sam nods in disapproval. “And Library of Congress can suck my ass.”

“You’re so bitter,” Sam mumbles under his breath, perusing a few more titles in front of him before plucking a book so old it billows dust everywhere. He waves away the excess particles with his hand then opens it up, eyes flying over the pages.

“Yeah, yeah. Old Man Winchester is at it again. But that’s not the point. Why are we looking for books on sign language?”

Dean turns towards Sam and practically falls backwards when he finds his brother blushing like a virgin bride. His bashful face is five shades of red, lips curled up into an intimate smile while he pushes the book he was browsing back into place.

_No way._

“Is there a girl?” Dean asks cautiously.

Sam pushes his hands into his pockets and rocks backwards into the stacks. “Um...maybe?”

“Maybe? You don’t learn a whole new language for a ‘maybe.’”

“Okay, so more than a ‘maybe.’ I dunno, Dean. I...I like her.” Sam laughs under his breath and his eyes glass up a bit. “It’s the first time I’ve felt like this since I lost Jess and I can’t even explain it. One minute I’m looking at my phone and the next I’m locking eyes with Pamela’s newest worker at the coffee bar. She was talking while signing but I had no clue how to respond back, so Pamela stepped in as interpreter and we talked for a good hour while she was on break. She’s _astounding._ Like, she’s travelled every continent but Antarctica and studied anthropology for fun. Amazing, right?”

Dean whistles lowly and raises his eyebrows while his brother goes on about this mystery girl. From what Sam’s talking about, she sounds awesome. Funny, beautiful, and a little snarky to boot? She’d fit in perfectly at the Winchester Christmas table, and Dean feels a fluttering in his chest when he watches Sam beam before him like the brightest star in the sky. Truth be told, Dean always wondered if his brother would be able to move on after losing Jess five years back. He was so broken for those first few years, and no matter how hard he tried, was never able to get Sam interested in dating again. But this girl’s got his brother acting like a thirteen year old babbling about their first crush, something he hasn’t seen since the fire.

“She got a name?” Dean grunts. His fingers curl around a heavy tome that almost falls to the ground before he catches it in the nick of time.

“Uh, yeah. Eileen,” Sam replies, smile lighting up his face.

“Wait...Eileen Leahy?”

“Yeah...why?”

“She was in here the other day chatting with Pamela!" Dean recalls watching Eileen giggle over a cat video Pamela wanted her to watch and flashing rapid fire hand movements at one another to communicate. "She’s a fast signer, Sam. You gonna be able to keep up with that?”

Sam knocks his arm into Dean’s and pushes away from the stacks. “No, not a chance. But I’m sure gonna try.”

Dean whistles lowly. “Well I’ll be damned. Sammy’s got a date!”

“Not _yet_ ,” Sam amends, but the wide grin remains on his lips. “I kinda need to learn how to ask first.”

“You’re a smart kid. You’ll figure it out,” Dean responds, then goes back to eyeing the stacks. A bright, neon colored tome catches his attention and Dean flashes a feral smile when he pulls out the thick book. “Here, try learning from this.”

Sam’s face goes through a plethora of emotions, cascading from flabbergasted to amused to angry to incredulous before settling on bitchy, annoyed expression. “Really, Dean? _Sexy Signing for Deaf Seniors?_ ”

Dean breaks out in a fit of laughter and tosses his head back against the books. “A true American classic! You can make an impression with...wait. Sam? Sammy!”

“I’m not listening to this!” Sam calls out as he wanders back the way they came. “I’m going to ask Charlie instead. At least she’ll take this seriously.”

Dean grunts under his breath and calls out, “C’mon, Sammy! Take a joke! This is what I get for usin’ my lunch break to help you?”

Sam doesn’t respond verbally, but Dean catches his brother flicking him off before walking into the next aisle.

“Bitch,” Dean mutters under his breath, and it only takes a second before the well rehearsed reply echoes through the lines of books.

“Jerk!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I began working the day shift at work this week, which means I'm up before the sun and exhausted when I get home at night. That's why this chapter is a little shorter, but the next one is something I've been wanting to write for awhile now :) Thanks for all the comments, loves!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The one with all the tattoos!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter is inspired by a Tumblr post ](http://kvasirmisha.tumblr.com/post/144022249609/okay-but-i-just-really-love-the-idea-of-cas-being)

“You really sweat like a pig, don’t you?”

Dean looks up from the row of hot dogs he’s grilling to glare at Charlie’s smug smile.

“We can’t all be fresh as daisies in this heat, Bradbury.”

Charlie laughs under her breath and punches him in the arm, wincing when her first makes contact with his bicep. “C’mon, lighten up! You’re gonna bring this entire party down if you don’t.”

He sighs and glances around, taking in the surroundings. As a reprieve for not going camping, Marv insisted they have a staff cookout behind the library to “bond” and “connect” and “get to know one another,” as if they aren’t up each other’s asses on the daily. But with food being offered, no one could turn it down, especially when Marv planned a barbecue feast with all the trimmings. Hot dogs, burgers, chips, ice cream, coleslaw, pulled pork, the works. Because of that, they’re all sweating their asses off, trying to not stand in the sun too long lest they go back into work smelling like a high school football team.

“Then tell Benny to take over so I can go inside for a bit,” he mutters, chewing on the inside of his lip absentmindedly. “I’ll be a lot happier when I’m not soaked through.”

“If it’ll get you to stop being Grumpy Cat, sure,” Charlie responds while nudging the ground with her toe, then turns on her heel without comment, running when the warm grass turns into blazing asphalt beneath her bare feet.

Dean sighs and brushes his free hand over his forehead before nudging the now charred hot dogs with his spatula. He cringes when another dew of sweat beads on his neck and wets the back of his t-shirt. _Gross heat. Gross summer. Gross gross gross._  

He doesn’t get to think about it anymore before Benny meanders over to Dean’s side though, hips swaying slightly as the punch in his glass comes incredibly close to tipping over the edge.

“Ready for a break, brother?” Benny asks in his drawl, lips pursing on the last word.

Dean plucks the precarious vessel from Benny’s hand and takes a whiff. “Damn, how much rum did Gabe spike this with?” he asks, pushing the drink back into Benny's fingers.

Benny shushes him and leans in close to his ear. “That’s confidential information, and we can’t let Marv know that Gabriel’s got a secret stash of alcohol in the break room.” He snatches the unattended spatula from Dean’s hand and shoos him away. “Now get goin’ before Marv looks too closely.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. After he’s positive Benny’s not going to set the grill on fire, Dean swings by the refreshment table and snags a bottle of 7-Up before pulling open the back door and walking into the blessedly air conditioned basement. The cold breeze cascading around him pulls a content sigh from his lips, and he stumbles forward into the plethora of mismatched boxes and archived magazine piles before he takes a seat on a stack of old newspapers pushed up against the back wall.

He twists open his pop and takes a swig, eyes travelling around the archives department. Truth be told, this is his favorite place in the library. You never know which piece of forgotten history you’ll trip over or what you’ll find in any given box, plus it’s the one place where you can get away from everyone.

“Dean?”

Okay, _almost_ everyone.

“By the door, Cas!” Dean yells out. He takes another sip of his drink while Cas stumbles down the stairs, grinning to himself when Cas’s little ‘umph’ of surprise escapes his lips when he rams into a tower of old TIME magazines.

“You okay?” Dean asks.

“I think so,” Cas mumbles back as he edges his way through the ocean of papers around them.

Dean glances down at his drink and brings the lip up to his mouth for another sip. “Gettin’ tired of the heat too?”

“More like getting tired of Gabriel. He truly cannot go five minutes without being crass.”

“Yeah you’re right abo...whoa.”

Cas raises an eyebrow at him, but Dean’s too busy gaping and trying to _not_ act like a total idiot to notice.

He’s never seen Cas in anything other than his typical library wear- tweed jacket, black shoes, crooked tie and pressed pants. But today he followed Marv’s ‘relaxed’ dress code and looks practically unholy. The t-shirt he’s wearing is white and sweat soaked, enough that it’s clinging to a prominent pair of abs Dean never knew Cas had before. His shorts are jean cutoffs, just a shade shorter than a typical man would wear, and a metal cross dangles from his neck.

But that’s not the reason Dean’s shocked. No, that’s courtesy of the tattoos.

Cas doesn’t just have one tattoo. He’s got several, blotches of black and colorful ink blooming across his arms and legs in various designs and fonts. The first one Dean notices is a bluebird placed on Cas’s calf, wings spread as if in flight with the word ‘free’ written below in a simple serif font. Black lettering in a language Dean doesn’t recognize is crawling up Cas’s left forearm, twisting and turning until it disappears into the sleeve of Cas’s t-shirt. The name _Anna_ is tattooed on his foot in emerald green curls, a tribute to his twin sister, he’d reckon, and even though Dean can’t see it, there’s a hint of black _something_ peeking out of Cas’s collar when he turns his neck.

They’re _astounding._

“...Dean? Are you okay?”

“Oh...yeah,” he flubs, hand coming up to brush away the redness that is probably all over his cheeks by now. “Uh...just didn’t know you were into tattoos, that’s all.”

Cas softly smiles to himself and replies offhandedly, "I wasn't until I got this one." He points to the bluebird Dean was ogling just a few minutes earlier. "I was waiting for Anna to finish getting her first when I saw it on display. It was so beautiful I had to get it, and it was all down the rabbit hole after that." 

“Huh,” Dean responds, then shakes his head a bit before pointing at an obscure black tattoo that wraps around Cas’s wrist. “What’s that one?”

“Oh this?” Cas asks quietly. “It’s a Latin chant. A Tibetan monk I met once said it wards off negative energy.”

“And this one?” Dean’s finger gets precariously close to touching the tattoo he’s referring to, a beautifully drawn cluster of constellations in the crease of his elbow.

“That’s two renditions of Virgo overlapped with one another, to symbolize mine and Anna’s birthday.” He nudges the cursive ‘Anna’ Dean noticed earlier with his toe. “I got the constellations before that one, but I lost a bet to her and was forced to tattoo Anna’s name on my foot.”

“What about...this one?” he asks with a little laugh, pointing out the two lightsabers that are crisscrossed on Cas’s bicep.

Cas lets out a quick laugh. “You can thank Comic Con for that one.”

Dean breaks out into giggles and points to another blotch of color. “And what’s with this...blob?”

“It’s not a _blob_ ,” Cas says, bringing his hand up in mock offense. “I’ve got quite the story for that one…”

They go on like that for who knows how long, Cas waxing poetic about a whole life Dean didn’t even know Cas had. Turns out guy’s been _everywhere_ , and that’s not an exaggeration. A semester in Tibet, a summer in Italy, a weekend in Prague. He can speak Italian and Spanish and even a little bit of Arabic to boot, and when Dean teases Cas about proving it, he practically serenades Dean in his rocky tones, voice picking up the lifts and dips in each language perfectly (and brings about a whole new kink Dean didn’t even know he had in the process).

After breaking out in fits of giggles over the story of Cas’s lower back tattoo (a rainbow colored butterfly courtesy of a gin soaked night in Berlin), Dean feels his heart beat a little faster when he notices just how long they’ve been gone from the party. From the slightly cracked open doorway he realizes that the voices have long since faded, and only a few clinks of dishes being collected and a soft gurgling from the adjacent river remain. He knows they need to get back, Marv’s probably already called for a search party, but Dean can’t- won’t- leave here without asking one last question.

“Uh, Cas? What’s...what’s the tattoo that’s pokin’ out the back of your shirt?”

Cas poises his lips into a feral smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d notice that one.”

“Yeah I...wait. What are you doing?!” Dean exclaims in a rush, because Cas is peeling off his t-shirt like they’re in some badly lit porno.

“Showing you my tattoo,” he replies, like stripping in the archives department is something he does often, and before Dean can even collect his racing thoughts he’s gaping openly at a bare-chested Castiel, metal cross falling into place against his breastbone. “This one is incredibly important to me.”

When Cas turns around, Dean’s eyes widen. Inked on Cas’s back is a pair of angel wings, taking up almost his entire upper half. Obsidian feathers fill in the bulk of the wings before gradually turning to royal blue tips, and another foreign language Dean doesn’t recognize lines the edges in gorgeously crafted calligraphy.

“It’s Enochian, language of the angels,” Cas notes before Dean can ask his unspoken question. “Father was a Bible scholar, Mother too. I...I got this tattoo after they passed. To remember them by.”

Dean goes silent as his eyes rake over the intricate design. He doesn’t mean to, but he finds his fingers rising up to meet the bare, tattooed flesh, tips floating over the skin in a ghostlike motion. He wants to touch Cas so damn bad, but there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to function the rest of the day with the feel of that tanned skin lingering in his mind (or be able to ignore the blatant tightness that’s been in his pants ever since Cas took off his t-shirt in the first place).

Instead, Dean admires from afar, gaze trailing over cerulean blue feathers as they fade into rich black ones, following the dips and crevices of Cas’s toned body. He traces out the thin lines connecting each piece and hums in approval at the line work as he goes. It’s truly a beautiful piece.

The words that escape Dean after he’s done looking at Cas’s tattoo catches him off guard.

“You know, when I was a little kid I was afraid of the dark. Used to run to my parent’s room almost every night, convinced some monster lived under my bed. So my Mom put this little cherub statue in my bedroom and said ‘Dean, angels are watching over you.” He goes quiet and tries to hide the tremor that appears in his voice. “Actually, that was the last thing she ever said to me.”

Cas turns around and slides back onto the stack of papers they were seated on earlier, then looks at Dean. The pure sadness he finds in Cas’s gaze is disorienting. He’s so used to those baby blues being filled with muted excitement or adorable confusion, not the harrowing understanding of loss that’s clear as day on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Cas murmurs lowly, tones almost getting lost in the quiet babble floating in through the door. “But you know what?”

“What?” Dean asks, eyes downcast to the floor as he tries to fight off tears he thought were long run out.

He jumps when he feels a touch against his cheek, and he glances up to find Cas’s palm resting against his face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone in a gesture of comfort. It’s filled with warmth, and Dean finds himself leaning into the touch, desperate for as much contact with Cas’s skin as he can get.

“I believe you mother was right. There are angels watching over you.”

They remain in that position for who knows how long, Cas's hand on Dean's cheek, Dean leaning into it with all he's got. The quiet around them is calming, nice, and more than once Dean glances down at Cas's lips, wonders what it would feel like to just close the distance between them...

“Dean? Cas? You down there?”

They jump away from each other and Dean practically falls into one of the archive boxes, muttering a string of cusses under his breath when his body crashes into a pile of prized novels from the 1800s. Dust cascades around them as Cas frantically pulls on his t-shirt, hem falling into place right when Benny rounds the corner with that Southern smile he’s always wearing on his face.

“Am I interruptin’ you gentlemen?” he asks with smirk coloring his features.

“Uh no! Nothing at all! Why, what-”

“I think,” Cas interjects, “what Dean is trying to say is that we’re fine. I was just explaining my tattoos.”

Benny’s gaze widens when he takes in the same blotches of ink Dean was ogling earlier, and the two of them begin trading stories back and forth as Benny reveals a name that he has inked on his hipbone. Dean takes it as the perfect opportunity to slip away, so while they’re occupied he runs up the stairs and into the cool expanse of the upper library, taking in deep breaths as he wanders back to the Circ desk and calms the butterflies pummeling his gut. 

He goes back to work fairly quickly, hoping it will distract him from his encounter with Cas. For the most part tossing himself into helping patrons works, but later in the day every emotion he'd been pushing down hits Dean like a ton of bricks. 

He's helping an older woman, Mildred, get an Instagram set up when it happens. While he's talking about the ins and outs of the app, Mildred's trying make a move for his knee. He feels sharp nails grazing his thigh while he explains the features and tricks, and when she claws her nails into a place of his thigh that is precariously close to "precious cargo," Dean lets out the highest pitched yelp he's ever heard in his life. 

Low giggling rings out to his left which turns into rapturous laughter when he looks over. Cas’s head is tilted back at just the right angle, reflective light from the mirror behind his head causing a halo effect above him.

 _I believe your mother was right. There are angels watching over you_.

“You okay, dear?” Mildred asks when he pauses in his explanation.

“Oh yeah, right. Sorry,” he apologizes, blinking a few times.

She glances over at Cas’s retreating form and her face falls, hands coming back to rest in her lap. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were taken.”

Dean’s face turns beet red. “What? Me and Cas? We aren’t, I don’t, we’re _not-”_

“No need to explain to a little old lady like myself!” she replies cheerfully. “I’m glad you’ve found someone to look after you. Not easy in today’s world.” Mildred nudges his knee with her own and sighs under her breath. “I never did find a gentleman like that.”

She raises her finger and points over to the reference desk where Cas is now seated. His eyes are trained on one of Chuck’s many manuscripts for a series about monster fighting brothers he’s looking to get published, but when he catches Dean staring he glances up and smiles so bright it feels like the entire room lights up with it.

Dean's mouth purses into an 'o' shape when he realizes what was clear all along. Mom was right. An angel is looking over him, one with blue eyes and a gummy grin, and he wouldn't have it any other way. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _  
> The one where Pokemon Go ruins Dean’s life (but then makes it better)._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh...hi? 
> 
> I guess first off I have to say sorry for making you wait so long for a new chapter to this. December was a busy month for me, and once I did find time to write again my inspiration had vanished. I couldn't open this for almost a month, and when I did this chapter still fought me all the way to its completion. My love for this world is still there, but when I go to write it's like the words are gone. Nothing. Nada. (And that's why the last two things I've written have been for Yuri on Ice. A lot of the inspiration I feel is coming from that fandom at the time). 
> 
> I hope that this is not permanent and that the words will come back soon. Until then though, I don't know when I will be able to update this. I love this world and Dean & Cas too much to put out weak chapters just for the sake of updating, and I don't think you want that either. 
> 
> The good news is that this is a two-parter, so I already have a part two in place that I have a clear vision for (but just haven't written it yet). Hopefully this will bring back my inspiration so I can update this more often. 
> 
> Thank you all for being there through all of this and for sticking around. You are fantastic!

As summer slips into fall, the library changes. 

August brings out the long lost students, making their way back into the stacks as a new year begins. Claire and Alex, who spent the summer hitting up R.E.M reunion concerts, are back in full swing, giggling to one another as they work through their history homework together and check out the new kids who moved into town when they were away. Kevin comes by with his violin in hand, checking out as many SAT study books as he can carry back to his apartment above Pam’s coffee shop. And Alfie continues to lounge in the corner, sun bathing more than studying most days. 

It’s nice to see the regulars back again. Even though Dean would rather step on a bed of nails than admit it, he’s fond of the high school kids who come to the library. Sure, they’re loud and tease him for being an old man, but there’s nothing quite like debating movie trivia with Claire or talking about classic rock with Alex. 

At least, that’s how he feels most days. Today, all he wants is some damn peace and quiet, but that’s not possible with the bounds of teens wandering around the library, phones glued to their hands while pings and zings ring out from the speakers. 

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Dean grumbles into the cup of coffee he’s drinking. 

“I dunno, brother,” Benny says in his deep drawl next to him, flipping the page of his book. “Ever since last weekend kids have been floodin’ this place. You would think Bieber’s in town or somethin’.” 

Dean grunts back and takes a sip of the hot liquid, relishing in the warmth that flows through him while he takes in the library. Really, what are these kids doing up this early on a Saturday, and right after school just began no less? Don’t they have football games or cat videos to watch instead of hogging all the computer space? 

“Hell yeah, I caught a Pikachu!” a female voice cries out from the nonfiction stacks, and Dean closes his eyes. He _knows_ that voice. 

“Claire? What’s goin’ on?” he calls out, just loud enough to get a disapproving glare from Missouri as she meanders by with a cart of new books.

Claire’s blonde head pops out from the stacks, phone perched in front of her face. “I caught a Pikachu, that’s what.” 

“No way, where?” Samandriel exclaims as he runs over, turning around in a circle. 

“Over in the fiction section, around the 500s,” she says with the flick of her hand. 

Samandriel takes off like a rabbit running from its predator and disappears out of sight, and Dean gapes when three other teenagers dart around him, following. 

“What the hell is a Pikachu and why is it in my damn library?” Dean asks. 

Claire pulls her lips up into a smirk, finger dragging over her phone screen. “Really, Winchester?.” She flips her phone so Dean can see the screen. “It’s Pokemon Go,” Claire explains. She points to a little avatar that’s standing still on her phone, surrounded by little blue boxes on a map. “Y’know, gotta catch ‘em all?” 

“No, I don’t know,” he spits back. 

Claire sighs. “So uneducated. Basically it’s a game where you catch these little creatures called Pokemon. It used to only be available on consoles, but a few months ago they released a mobile version of the game. Now you can catch Pokemon in real time like...that!” 

Dean glances over just as a purple ratlike creature comes up on the screen. Claire taps on it and the creature jumps to life in virtual reality, looking as if it’s standing on a book cart a few feet away. She swipes up and a ball catches the creature, turning back and forth a few times before calming down. 

“Rattatas are pretty lame, but you get experience points for catching them,” Claire says with a shrug, then passes the phone over to Dean. “C’mon, give it a try.” 

He glares at the device like it personally offended him and pushes it away. “No thanks.” 

“C’mon, old man. Can’t you be cool about this?” 

“No way! Do you see what this game is doing to my library? Nobody’s even reading! Why go to a library if you’re not gonna read?” 

Claire snorts at him and leans back on her heels. “Never took you for a library purist,” she mumbles under her breath. 

“I’m not,” he snarks back. “I-”

“Claire, did you find that Pikachu you were looking for?” Cas barges in, phone also perched before his eyes. 

“Aw hell, not you too!” Dean exclaims, tossing his hands up in the air.

Cas glances up from his phone and smiles softly. “Guilty,” he says sheepishly. “Claire showed me how to play earlier this week. It’s quite addicting. You should try it.” 

Dean rolls his eyes so dramatically he’s surprised they don’t fall right out of his head. 

“Is he always this bitter?” Claire stage whispers to Cas. 

“Yes,” he mumbles back. 

“Okay, fine!” Dean exclaims. “Hand over the damn phone.” 

Claire smiles widely and holds out her phone for Dean to claim. He takes it and flips through a few screens, perusing what Claire’s already caught and what she still needs. He’s scrolling through her items when the phone buzzes in his hand. 

“That means there’s one nearby,” Cas explains, walking around so he’s standing behind Dean. “Go back.” 

Dean obeys orders and sure enough, a little Pokemon is awaiting to be caught. When he taps on it, a bustling bird appears, staring him down. 

“Now toss the ball-not like that. Like...no!” Cas complains when Dean misses for the second time. “Here, like this.” 

Dean jumps when Cas’s hand lands on top of his, guiding his finger in the right direction. Cas’s breath is warm on his neck, and if he’s being candid, doesn’t even notice that the Pokemon was caught because all he can think about is ‘oh my god Cas is touching me what do I do?!’ 

But the moment is gone before he can even open his mouth, Cas’s warm presence fading as he takes a few steps backwards and Claire snatches her phone back from Dean’s hands. 

She regards his catch with a raised eyebrow and nods in approval. “400 CP Pidgey isn’t the best, but not bad either for your first try.” 

“Huh,” Dean replies with a shrug. “Who would’ve known?” 

Claire smiles softly at him. “You wanna try again?” 

Dean glances down at the phone Claire holds out. Truthfully, he still can’t give a damn about this game, but his skin is already itching to have Cas’s hands on it again. 

“Sure...but only if you’ll help me, Cas,” Dean says as he turns towards him. 

Cas lets out a little laugh and says, “As you wish.” 

The three of them spend the better part of the morning exploring the library grounds, eyes firmly set on their phones. Dean’s earlier bitterness fades away into him actually having fun, and Claire wanders off after Dean caves and downloads the app for himself. That leaves Dean and Cas alone to delve into restricted areas like the archives or the break room to hunt, and they take up their entire break visiting nearby Pokestops. They laugh as Cas keeps reaching behind Dean to fix his aim, and Dean tries to hide just how much he’s enjoying Cas pushed up against his back. And when Missouri catches them goofing off and sasses them about getting back to what they’re paid to do, they break into laughter and stumble back towards the circulation desk, shoulders bumping into one another as they go. 

“Hey, this was fun,” Dean comments as they both slide into chairs and Dean begins picking up the trash Chuck left behind. 

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” Cas replies back. “We should do it again sometime.” 

Dean’s fingers pause on a piece of looseleaf paper he is picking up and glances down at the desk. “What are you doing tonight?” 

“Hm?” Cas hums. 

“I...uh...what are you doing tonight?” Dean repeats, still not looking Cas in the eye. He can practically feel his face heating up, mind racing. Is he really asking Cas out right now? Is this really happening? 

Cas rests his chin in his hand and shrugs nonchalantly. “Nothing, I suppose. Why?” 

“Uh...do you want to meet up? Claire said that the downtown area is filled with gyms if we want to train.” 

He waits as Cas considers his request, finger tapping against his cheek. “Okay,” he replies. 

Dean can’t hide the grin that forms on his face. “Really?”

“Yes,” Cas says with a shrug. “It would be fun. Meet down by the fountain at 7?” 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Dean responds. “Great. Fantastic.” 

Cas laughs under his breath then grabs a stack of books that are waiting to be shelved. “I better get back to work, but I’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay. See ya, Cas.” 

Dean watches as Cas turns his back and wanders away from the desk, and once he’s alone he laughs to himself and leans back in his chair. 

He’s going on a date with Cas. 

_And it's gonna be perfect...right?_


End file.
